Ransom
by VividInfinity
Summary: Ransom. One word, and suddenly Sarah's missing. Blank, a notorious villain  yes, I said villain,  is at large, but that sounds too corny, so let's go with "MANIAC LOOSE IN ON THE STREETS OF NYC!" READ ALL ABOUT IT! T for future chapters.
1. Nickel

**Disclaimer: Watch me sob; tragically enough, Spot Conlon's BEE-YOO-TEE-FULL face is not mine. Neither do I own the Brooklyn Bridge, sadly.**

**Claimer: Blank, and Nickel are mine, and so is whatever shit I plan to put into the mysterious package.**

**ENJOY, PEOPLE!**

He was alone.

Actually, he knew he wasn't. He knew he was far from alone, and every Brooklynite instinct screamed for his fingers to pull out his slingshot and marbles, but he knew why he couldn't.

But for all purposes, he was alone, as he was supposed to be. He had come alone, without back up, and without a lookout or spy or messenger.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, and was reminded of the reason he was here, from the ransom note in his left pocket, hastily scribbled, and signed with a flourish.

That was why he was on the Brooklyn Bridge, because it was neutral territory. They knew that if they met in Brooklyn, he'd kill them for taking his sister.

"Hello, Spot." A voice came from behind him. Spot's instincts screamed, and his fingers twitched, but he couldn't give his opponent the satisfaction of seeing him act like a Brooklynite. "Miss me?"

"Where is Nick?" Spot demanded, turning calmly, though he was furious. His dark blue shirt was unbuttoned in the warmth, and though Spot was a skinny kid, he was as strong as an ox, and tough as a cockroach.

His opponent knew it, and grinned.

He was a tall boy, seventeen and that made him only a year older than Spot. He had dark hair, nearly black, and pale green eyes that glinted in the moonlight. He was dressed like a newsie, a street kid, and his trademark knives hung from his belt and suspenders. It was a warm night, or his knives would've been hidden by the clothes he had picked out for that purpose.

The boy who'd been branded Half-Dollar when he was young had changed his name to Horseshoe, but he'd given up both those names.

Now he was called Blank. That was his name, Blank, because when you addressed him, there was normally a wide open space you would fill with curses if the younger newsies weren't around you. He left this stain on the city, a horror of the kind you found in nightmares.

"Easy, Spot. Dontcha trust me?"

"'Bout as far as I can throw ya," Spot spat. "Now wheah's my sistah?"

"Right heah, Spotty." He signaled, and appeared a boy, holding captive Spot's sister, Nickel, who looked murderous. Her eyes flamed, but she didn't dare move, for the boy held a knife to her throat. Among the street kids, a knife was no joke.

Spot was relieved she was not hurt more than a few bruises, so he was willing to overlook the 'Spotty,' but she was still bruised, and she had a knife to her throat, so he swore to himself that he'd make Blank pay.

"You brought them?" Blank demanded.

"Yeah, I brought them." Spot snapped.

"Hand it ovah, then, or the girl dies." Blank promised.

"I want your word, foist," Spot pulled the package out of his pocket. "It took me two weeks to get this shit, and I want your word, that you'll never touch Nickel again."

Blank sneered. "And what'm I s'pposed to swear on? We both know I got no honor." That was true. Neither of them did, because there was no honor among thieves. There was, however, honor among newsboys, but Blank was hardly even that.

Spot gave a cold, blank smile, hard as foot-thick ice. "Swear on your mother's soul," He proposed, because he alone knew what had happened to Blank's mother.

"And you?" Blank demanded, turning red with fury. The sneer disappeared from his face at the mention of his mother.

"I swear by Brooklyn." Spot declared, and he could feel the pride of his borough behind him.

Blank shook his head. "Not good enough, Spotty." He nodded at his chest, where that silver key hung. "Swear by that, or the deal's off." He said, because he alone, besides Nickel, knew what that key meant.

Instinctively, Spot's hand went to the key, and those ice eyes added another layer. He gave the key a squeeze.

"Deal." He spat in his hand, and held it out. "You let Nickel go, and never touch her again, and you get what you're looking for."

"Deal." Blank said, spitting into his hand. He slapped his hand into Spot's, and barked, "Let 'er go!"

The boy who held Nickel slid his knife into its sheath, and pushed Nickel into Spot.

In that one moment, when Spot caught his sister, they were gone, the both of them, and however many had been lurking in the shadows.

"I'll moidah 'im!" Nickel growled, but Spot grabbed her arm.

"Not tonight, Nick. We're goin' home."

Nickel glared at him, but her green eyes, piercing as they were, had no effect on her brother, only on others.

She was younger, and looked more like their mother than Spot did. They had the same hair, that was sometimes blonde and sometimes brown, and that same sharpness in their eyes. But Nickel was more delicately carved, as if she was a willow while he was an oak, albeit a young, skinny one. She was fourteen, but that was old enough to be considered a full newsie, and young enough still to be ransomed to her brother.

Nickel sighed, and rubbed her throat where the knife had threatened her. She slipped her hand into her brother's, smiling gently as he stiffened, because he wasn't used to emotion.

"You're right, Spot. Let's go back to Brooklyn."

As they walked away, Spot dropped that package on the Bridge, for Blank.

He only hoped he wouldn't regret.


	2. Blank's Got Her

**Disclaimer: Tragically, Jack Kelly and David's gorgeous faces are not mine. *sob* yeah, yeah, yeah, i know, drama queen. . . . .still suckz, though.**

**Claimer: Blank, Falcon, Havoc, and Alleypup are mine, but I got the name Alleypup from a Tamora Pierce book called Briar's Book. You should read it, it's good!**

Bring Havoc and Falcon to the square, at midnight on Friday

Bring _only_ Havoc and Falcon,

Or your girl dies

_Blank_

Jack stared at the signature.

Blank.

"What is it?" David demanded.

"He has her." Jack said flatly, and stuffed the note in his pocket.

"Who has her?" David demanded.

"Blank."

"Who?"

"Blank."

"Jack, who the heck is Blank?"

Why couldn't David just curse and yell like the other newsies?

He was middle class, that was why. It all came down to class.

"Where did they take Sarah?" Davey demanded. "Who is Blank?"

Jack fired off as he strode for the Lodging House. "Blank took Sarah, and wants her back in exchange for two people he _knows_ will hurt me."

"Who?"

"Falcon and Havoc."

"_Who?_"

But Jack didn't say anything else as he practically ran for the Lodging House.

Sarah. Gone, taken. By Blank. _Blank_.

Jack clenched his fists. Knowing Blank, he'd likely get Sarah back either with a kid in her stomach, or with a slit throat.

He clenched his fists so hard, that his nails began to dig into his palm, and draw blood.

He felt like throwing something.

David was worried.

He had no idea who Blank was, or who Falcon and Havoc were, but that Sarah was missing was enough for him to feel worried.

She had gone to work, in the factory, and never come home. His parents were frantic, and David didn't know what to tell Les. They had been gone most of the day, and half asleep when they got back.

He had just told Les that Sarah was out.

When Jack told the boys about Sarah's disappearance, they spazzed.

There was screaming, yelling, gasps, talking, debating. Jack climbed onto his bunk, and sat with his head in his hands, trying to think.

"Give 'em to 'im!" Someone yelled, and Jack's head snapped up.

Everyone looked at one of the newsies that had joined after the strike, a skinny kid in loose clothes and a big cap. The kid's name was Alleypup.

Jack jumped down from his bunk, and grabbed Alleypup.

Alleypup was fifteen, but small and skinny, so it was easy for the big teenager to grab his shirt collar, and haul him up a foot to eye level.

"_NEVER_," Jack growled, and Alleypup cringed away from the Manhattan leader. "I will _NEVER_ give them to him."

Dropping the boy, Jack pulled off Alleypup's cap, and long brown hair fell in a cascade down her back. The girl glared at everyone who gasped, and muttered amongst themselves.

Jack took the girl's cap in his hands, and tore it in two.

The talking stopped.

It took great strength to rip a newsie cap, and that meant that Jack was furious.

He threw the remains of Alleypup's newsie cap at the girl, and announced. "I'm going to see Falcon and Havoc." He glared at Alleypup, who scrambled to her feet. "If I never see you again, it'll be too soon. I'll take you to Brooklyn in the morning."

Alleypup nodded hurriedly, and retreated to the kids, Boots and Blanket and Snipeshooter and Tumbler, who eyed her warily.

"David," Jack said, and he walked out the door, grabbing David's arm on his way out. "We're going to the Bowery."

"We are?"


	3. Intentions Revealed

**Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies. If I did, I would probably be swarmed by adoring fans. T_T I'se is sad now, cuz I don't owns Newsies. *sob* I don't even own Jack or David! *SOBS LOUDER!***

**Claimer: Falcon, Havoc, Nudge, Blank, Trixie, Chip, and Missy are mine. So is this plot.**

**Falcon's POV**

A knock came at the door.

I was puzzled.

Who could be at the door? Hardly anyone knew my _name_, let alone where I lived, or bothered to learn.

So, I did the only thing I could. I opened the door.

I grinned when I saw Jack at the door, and threw my arms around him, planting a kiss on his cheek. My old friend, and he'd been off having adventures while I was stuck here.

"Where the hell've you been?" I demanded, grinning. "I haven't seen you since 'fore the strike!"

Jack was smiling, but he was sad behind it all. "Missed ya, too, Falcon. Oh," He remembered his manners, and stepped aside. "Falcon, this is my friend, David Jacobs. He helped lead the strike. Davey, Falcon."

I looked him over. He was middle class, that much was certain. He was dressed like middle class, and acted like middle class.

"Hi, nice to meet you," He said, and extended a hand.

Yep, definitely middle class.

But I shook his hand because few people even bothered to address me, let alone be polite.

"Jack, what'r e you here for?" I asked, one eyebrow raised. "I know you, Jack, and you nevah struck me as the kinda guy ta come visit wit'out a problem, considerin' how long it's been."

"Well, I been busy, Fal," Jack said, leaning in the doorway. "Sellin' papes, leadin' strikes, carryin' da bannah, you know da type."

"Your point?" I asked, and now both eyebrows were raised.

"We came about Blank." Jack said flatly.

I reacted on instinct.

"No," I said flatly, and began to shut the door in his face.

But that other boy, what's his name? David? He stuck his foot between the door and the doorway, and her pulled it back open.

"Please, we need your help," He said.

I looked at Jack. "He did it again, didn't he?"

Jack nodded.

I sighed, and opened the door further.

"Get in here, dumbasses." I muttered, and shut the door as soon as I could, almost catching the tip of Jack's hair.

"Watch it!" He reprimanded me crossly.

I led the boys into the better of the three rooms I shared with Havoc. I was luckier than most. I had my own apartment, and it was bigger than I needed, technically.

I called, "Havoc!" She turned, and she shrieked, and ran to bury her face into Jack.

"Uncle Jack, Uncle Jack!" She cried, and attacked him.

I smiled, and David looked at her.

"How old is she?" He asked.

"Havoc's four," I said.

She detached herself from Jack, and ran to me. "Momma, Momma," She cried, "Whozzat?" she demanded, and pointed to David.

I picked up my daughter, and hoisted her onto my shoulder.

"He's a stranger," I said to Havoc. "He's Uncle Jack's age. Say hi to David, Havoc," I said, and Havoc turned her cloudy eyes in David's direction, and waved frantically.

"Hello, David!"

David sucked in his breath sharply, and I knew why.

It was because my baby was blind.

I gestured to the beat-up couch.

They sat, and I sat, and Havoc ran off easily, because she knew this apartment all too well.

"Fal, how's Havoc?" Jack asked, concerned. He worried too much about Havoc. She wasn't his, but you would have thought she was, the way he fussed over her sometimes.

I smiled. "She ain't stupid or deaf, Jack. She can hear you. She's doin' good. Havoc's a good kid, and I try my best."

"You still workin' at the factory?" Jack asked.

I nodded. "Nudge looks after Havoc some days. Other times Trixie or Chip. They're good sports about it, too."

Jack cocked his head. "And your birthday was last month, right?"

I grinned. "Eighteenth, thanks very much. Didn't even bother to drop in, Jack?"

Jack smiled. "What can I say? I got stuff ta do."

"Speaking of which. . ." David elbowed Jack. He turned to me. "My sister's missing."

"And you think Blank took her?" I asked. "Was she pretty?"

Jack nodded. David looked puzzled.

"Smart?"

Nods.

"Virgin?" I raised an eyebrow and grinned at this one.

The boys turned beet red, and David shot a glance at Jack, but they both nodded.

"And middle class." I mused. "Hm. Yep, Blank's got 'er."

Jack nodded. Again with the nodding.

He pulled something out of his pocket, and bit his lip.

"Here's what he wants for 'er."

I took it. It was a piece of paper, the kind they used for newspapers, but blank.

And it was written in blood.

"Oh no!" I yelled, jumping up from my seat. "No no no no no no no no no no no no no no, _hell no_!"

"Falcon, if you'll just—" Jack began, but I didn't bother letting him finish.

"Don't you _dare_! My _baby_! He wants me and my _baby_!" I yelled, and kicked the wall.

The boot print joined many others.

"Jack, _why_ does he want her?" David demanded.

"Falcon—" Jack tried again.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, _no_!" I shrieked, and grabbed the note. I held it out to Jack and David. "It's written in _blood_, you dumbasses!" they went pale.

Blood for ink was serious, that meant the writer meant business.

"Why does he want you?" David demanded.

"Havoc!" I called, and she came running.

"Yeah, Momma?" She asked. Her sightless eyes were worried. "Why were you yelling?"

"Havoc, I want you to go over to Nudge's house, okay?" I said. I pressed a nickel into her hand. "Go out with Missy, and buy yourself something nice, okay?"

She nodded, and ran off. She knew her way around the building better than anybody, and with Missy to guide her, she'd never get lost.

"But she's blind," David said.

"Your point?" I demanded, and sat again.

David let it go, because there never is any use in arguing with me.

"But why does Blank want you?" He asked.

I sighed, and began what pretty much amounted to the tragic soap opera that was my life.

"I was a newsie, when I was fourteen. Blank thought my boyfriend would pay ransom fer me, so 'e had me kidnapped. That's what 'e does, 'e kidnaps girls.

"And then he writes the ransom note in the girl's blood." I rolled up my sleeve. One long scar on my forearm, because Blank had desired to make it hurt more than necessary. "An' he sends it, signed, 'cause why not? No Bull'll care for a kidnapped street girl, or even a kidnapped middle class girl, so it won't matter if there's proof of it.

"He kidnapped me, and he did what he does with every girl he kidnaps.

"Sometimes he kills them, sometimes he doesn't, but either way, he'll make them suffer, because he's good at it. And once he's bored, he'll give the girl to one of his minions if the girl's family doesn't pay up."

"That's cruel!" David said, horrified.

"No kiddin'." I said.

"Did your boyfriend pay the ransom?" David asked.

""Course not. Blank _literally_ asked for Spot Conlon's head. He wanted it delivered on a silver platter, because he thought Conlon was a threat, though he was only twelve at the time.

"But Blank and his underlings liked me, and they kept me for a couple months.

"'Till I found out I was pregnant, and they kicked me out, though not before getting drunk as hell and beating me half to death."

That pretty much finished the story.

Jack, who'd heard my sob story before, was smoking a cigarette, looking uncomfortable, as he always did when I talked about my past.

David looked horrified.

"And they'll do it to Sarah?" He demanded.

I shrugged. "Can't tell. Is she a fighter?"

He shook his head. "She can punch a guy, but she's no fighter."

"Then yeah, pretty much." I said. "You're screwed, she's screwed, and your parents are gonna pitch a fit." Welcome to my world, I thought.

"What can we do?" David asked.

I shrugged." You got three options, in my opinion."

David nodded for me to continue.

"One, you can do nothing. From your description, she's a weakling in Blank's eyes, so if he don't kill 'er, she'll end up maybe like me." Not an encouraging image, to David. "Two, you can storm the fort. Bring reinforcements to that meeting, attack Blank, but that'll prob'ly just get you _and_ Sarah killed."

"And our third option?" Jack asked.

"You can go to Brooklyn." I said promptly.


	4. Brooklyn

**Disclaimer: I, sadly enough, do not own Newsies, Manhattan, Brooklyn, Jack, Spot, or David**

**Claimer: I **_**do**_**, however, own Alleypup, Falcon, Havoc, and Nickel**

**ENJOY!**

**( I already said that in a past chapter, didn't I?)**

**Alleypup's POV**

Why did they drag me along to Brooklyn?

I'll tell you why.

Because that girl, what's her name, Falcon, decided that they needed to go to Brooklyn.

And Jack didn't want me in his lodging house.

But I'd never met Spot Conlon.

"What is Spot Conlon like?" I asked, and Falcon smiled at me.

She had that blind kid on her hip, though I didn't get why insisted on carting her everywhere.

"Spot Conlon's the King of Brooklyn. An' you don' wanna get on 'is bad side, that's fer sure."

I rolled my eyes. "'How bad can 'e be?"

David looked over his shoulder at me. "Your funeral."

I shrugged, but I was worried. What kind of person was I being dumped off with?

But at the docks of Brooklyn, someone stopped us.

"Hold it," He said, and Jack said,

"We're heah ta see Spot. 'S'important."

The boy shook his head. "Spot don't see no one 'less he knows them."

"He _does_ know us, thickhead." Jack said, pushing past him.

We all followed, ignoring the boy's protests.

But at the top of a pile of crates wasn't a boy, it was a girl.

"Oi Nick!" Jack called. "Wheah's Spot?"

"Out!" She said, jumping down. "Blank's back." She was expecting some kind of reaction, I guess, but she didn't get it, or at least not the kind she wanted.

"We know," Falcon said calmly.

"They took Sarah." David said.

Nickel nodded briskly, and climbed back up onto the pile of crates.

Focusing on a point somewhere far behind the crates, Nickel called, "SPOT! GET YER ASS OVAH HEAH! JACKY BOY'S BACK, AN' 'E'S GOT NEWS!"

Jack snorted. David looked taken aback. Falcon and Havoc bother grinned, and I had to join them.

Nickel jumped down again. She looked at Falcon and grinned.

"Fal!" She exclaimed. "Where've ya been all this time?" She peered at Havoc. "Hiya, Hav. How goes life?"

"Aunt Nick!" Havoc shrieked, and scrambled out of her mother's arms to clutch Nickel.

As Nickel hugged Havoc, she looked at me. "Who's dis?" She asked Jack.

"Alleypup." Jack answered. "I wanted ta see if I could leave 'er wit' you."

Nickel peeled Havoc off her, and handed her to Falcon. "Cowboy, Brooklyn ain't a dump where you can throw all your defective newsies, ya know."

"Alleypup's different." Jack said. "She _disguised_ herself as a boy. _Successfully_."

They looked at me with interest. I scowled at them. "Don't you know staring's _rude_?"

"That changes things." Nickel admitted.

WHAT WAS GOING ON? DOES ANYONE ELSE KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON?

Nickel spat, and stuck out a hand. "Nick Conlon, Spot's sistah, an' beta o' Brooklyn."

I spat and shook, a habit I'd picked up almost immediately upon my arrival in Manhattan.

"C'mon," She gestured for us all to follow her. "Spot's at the lodging house."

"I thought you said he was out." That was David. He sounded puzzled.

"I lied." Nickel said cheerfully. She shrugged. "So sue me."

I liked her. She was nice, and she didn't have any trouble making herself heard. And she was a leader. Even if she was just my age.

At the lodging house, we found 'Spot' arguing with a dozen girls.

"I don't _care_ whatcha want. If ya don' wanna get taken, ya gotta go in pairs!" He saw us. "_Do it._" He ordered the girls, and walked over.

"Jacky boy," He spat in his hand and greeted Jack. He nodded politely at David and Falcon, and glared at me. "Whozzis?"

"Alleypup," Jack explained. "Nickel said Brooklyn could keep her."

"I'm right here!" I said, but of course no one said anything.

Spot glared at his sister, who shrugged.

He turned his glare back to Jack. "Blank's back."

Jack nodded. "I know."

"He took Sarah," David said, sounding like he was about to lose it.

Spot's eyes widened.

"Spot, we want your help getting her back," Falcon said, "Blank asked for Havoc and me in exchange for her."

Spot looked at Nickel, then back at us. "Be right back,"

And he dragged his sister away for a private conversation.

In the meantime, Falcon sat on a crate with Havoc, and I sat next to her.

"Was she born blind?" I asked, and Havoc turned her head to me.

"I'm right here!" She said indignantly.

Falcon smiled. "She was, but she's never had a problem making herself heard."

I nodded. I got that.

"I heard you disguised yourself as a boy?" Falcon looked at me, and Havoc gaped.

"Ya did?"

I smiled. "I did. But Jack found me out." Falcon laughed.

"That's just like Jack."

I played with Havoc for a while, and talked with Falcon.

Spot came back. He looked hesitant, but he said, "We'll help."


	5. Messengers

**Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies. Neither do I own Spot, David, Racetrack, Blink, Les, Snipeshooter, Jack, Boots, Blanket, or any of the other newsies from the movie. Or Diamond, because she's based off DiAmOnDsrBlU, who asked me to put her into the story.**

**Claimer: Falcon, Nickel, Havoc, Alleypup, Dock, Jade, Scamp, and Clover are mine.**

**If you want me to put you into the story,**

**Kiss my feet and say pretty please.**

**Just kidding, but it was funny to write that. But if you want me to put you in the story you gotta ask, and I can't put that many, only one or two more.**

'**Kay?**

**Falcon's POV**

Spot and the others were just beginning to formulate a battle plan.

Some girl or other had taken Alleypup away, to show her where she'd sleep, and where to stow her things. Havoc was playing with some older kids, about ten or eleven, who were trying to explain colors to her. Two of them had synesthesia, and were arguing about the personalities of different colors. The other one was trying to describe the sky to Havoc, and the color blue.

I smiled. My daughter was having fun, her sightless eyes staring at the sky as the girl explained about clouds and their whiteness.

"Jack!" another girl's voice cut through the air.

Jack whirled, to look at the girl. She looked to be about thirteen, or maybe fourteen.

"Diamond?" He said, incredulous.

"But she's never even been to Brooklyn," David muttered.

"You wanna bet?" Spot challenged. There was something he wasn't saying, but no one was keen to ask.

But Diamond didn't even look at Spot as she ran, straight for the Manhattan leader.

"Diamond, what's wrong?" Jack demanded, gripping the girl's shoulders.

"She's never so hyped up," David muttered. Again with the muttering.

"Another note came from Blank!" Diamond panted in horror. "They took Clover!"

"Oh shit!" David muttered, and took off running. Jack followed quickly.

"Who's Clover?" I demanded, picking up Havoc and making apologies and explanations to her playmates.

"Blink's girl," Spot said, and took off, chasing down David and Jack.

"Aw, crap," I agreed.

"Dock!" Nickel yelled, and a stocky boy's head snapped in her direction. "Man the fort, we'll send word later!" The boy nodded, and Nickel was off.

I followed. I wasn't eager to be left by myself in Brooklyn.

At 'Hattan, we found utter mayhem.

There were several smashed bottles all around the room, evidence that Blink had been there, and the newsie in question had evidently been out cold a while earlier, because Racetrack nursed a sore fist. Several older newsies held him down as he yelled and screamed. Les, Snipeshooter, Scamp, Boots, and Blanket were in one corner, watching it all. The older newsies were drinking, or smoking, or examining the ransom note, or yelling, or sometimes lots of them all at once.

As soon as we entered, Jack ran to try and calm Blink and the others. David ran to the little kids, and Spot grabbed the ransom note from Bumlets. Havoc clambered out of my arms, and tugged at Spot's sleeve, hearing the rustle of paper.

"Mistah Spot, Mistah Spot, what's it say?" She demanded.

"Nuttin', kid." Spot said absentmindedly, and I took Havoc by the hand and began to lead her to the other little kids.

"How did you know it was Spot?" I asked.

"The slingshot in his belt," Havoc told me. "And he's short." I snorted, and prayed Spot hadn't heard that.

Nickel was interrogating the newsie girls.

I joined her.

There were eight or nine of them, but one, who seemed to be the leader, was doing most of the talking. Diamond, who seemed to be second in command of the girls, did most of the rest.

"Who was the last one to see Clover?" Nickel demanded.

"Jade did," Diamond answered, and nodded at the girls' leader.

Jade nodded. "I saw her selling on the street corner, and I waved, and she waved back, and then I turned the corner and left."

"Well, what does Clover look like?" I asked.

"Shamrock eyes," An Irish girl answered immediately. "Never seen any like 'em. And straight off the boat, she was."

"She had red hair," Diamond said. "Not like, _red_ red, but like, Irish red." And the Irish girl nodded in confirmation.

"So she's Irish?" I clarified.

The girls shook their head.

"Her grandparents were, but only on 'er mother's side. Her father was pure Italian." Jade told me. "But she don't speak Italian or Irish."

I nodded. "Anything else, something that might help us identify her?"

The girls looked at each other.

"She allus wore a cross 'round 'er neck." The Irish girl remarked. "Same one, I t'ink 'er muddah gave it to 'er."

"And she had a birthmark on her neck," Diamond put in. "Looked like a heart a bit if you tilt your head to look at it."

"And freckles," Jade said. "Lots of 'em. And her hair was real long, but she kept it tied back. And she's short."

"Not _very_ short," Diamond argued. "Taller'n me, wasn't she?"

"Yeah, but you're twelve," Another girl retorted.

I was mildly stunned. Diamond? Twelve? I'd thought the girl was at least thirteen. She didn't look twelve, regardless of height.

"About my height," the Irish girl said. "But a bit shorter."

I nodded.

"And what was she wearing?" Nickel asked.

"Cream shirt, I think," Jade answered thoughtfully. "And brown suspenders. And a brown cap."

"Lotsa brown," Diamond agreed. "Her undershirt was white, though."

Nickel nodded. "And her age?"

"Seventeen," Jade answered promptly.

"Eighteen in a few weeks," Diamond put in, not to be outdone.

"Thanks, girls," she said, and the girls nodded and dispersed.

I looked around. The boys were crowded around Blink, who gripped the ransom note.

"Gimme dat," I said, and grabbed it.

"Hey!" Blink yelled, and as he leaped for the note, I brought a hand up and slammed it in his chest, hard.

The boys grinned, despite the circumstances.

I got your girl, Kid.

Don't wanna lose her like you lost your eye, do you?

Bring me Havoc and Falcon, same time as I told Cowboy.

Or she gets it.

_Blank_

Oh, _shit_!

Blink was staring at me, and I knew he wanted to turn me in.

He lunged.

But Jack knocked into him halfway, and they went sprawling.

In no time at all, it was a full out fight, the boys' eyes glazed with fire and hate, and everyone in the room looked up. Bottles crashed to the floor, cigars were abruptly stamped out. Conversation stopped, and Havoc ran to me, because she always knew where her mother was.

"Momma, what's happening?" She demanded, her small face twisted with worry.

"Nothing, Havoc," I said, clutching her to my chest.

No one dared break it up, because with the newsies, a fight was a fight, and a fight defined who a leader was. You couldn't just charge in and break it up. Even Kloppman wouldn't dare, and it was his lodging house.

Of course, David wasn't a complete newsie. He was half middle class, and had morals to boot.

So he ran for them, and I started.

"David, no!" I yelled, and everyone turned to look.

Havoc wisely untangled herself from me, and I gripped David in a headlock as he tried to charge past me.

"Falcon, let me _go_!" He yelled, and fought me.

"Let them play it out," I hissed. "Or it'll never end."

"We haven't got _time_ for this!" He told me angrily. "Sarah's gone, and now Clover, and if they kill themselves, then what'll we do?"

I let him go, and as he lunged out of my grip, I grabbed his wrist and twisted it up behind him the way an arm is not supposed to bend.

He cursed.

"Ya want 'em to hate you?" I demanded. "If Blink hates you, you're screwed, and how do you think Sarah'll feel when she finds out you hate each other." I let him go.

"Jesus Christ, how do you _do_ that?" He demanded, wringing his arm.

I stared at him.

There was something very wrong with this guy.

He was, I don't know, too _clean_. And I don't just mean that literally. He was middle class, which had to count for something, and he hardly knew anything about the way newsie life works. And newsie clothes were streaked with mud and grime from the city, even those of the kids who had mothers and sisters to wash them. His were clean and ironed. He wasn't like most newsies, however hard his life might be. His life was clean, too, clean of everything that made a newsie a street kid.

He'd been to school. Changes the way you look at things.

"Rape teaches you things," I told him quietly. "Blank teaches you things, though mayhap not on purpose."

David shot a glance at Havoc, who sat on the floor, listening intently to the fight.

"Blank's?" He asked.

I glared at him. "Every day I look at my daughter, and she's beautiful, but she's blind, and one o' dese day she'll grow old enough to think that mayhap it's 'er punishment for who 'er father was."

David looked ashamed.

"C'mon," I said. "Let's find Spot."

He wasn't hard to find, when all was said and done. He was watching the fight intently, as newsies cheered. Jack lunged for Blink, who punched him square across the jaw, and Jack kicked him, and lunged for his throat.

"They'll kill each other," David hissed in my ear.

"Then one of 'em's dead and 'Hattan's got a new leadah," I told him. "Now shaddup. Cowboy can take care of 'imself."

Said aforementioned Cowboy pinned Kid Blink to the ground. Case in point.

I checked the clock after a while. The fight had gone on for a long while, and I was already starting to see blood. I was, for once, glad Havoc couldn't see it all.

Enough already. "Time to stop," I muttered, and began to start for the fight.

David grabbed my arm. "Didn't you say that we should let them fight?" He growled.

"I'm not saying they won't," I explained. "But now's not the time to kill each other. I'm just postponing the inevitable."

Spot nodded. "I agree." He looked to Nickel, who stood behind him. "Nick, you 'nd da Mouth stay back, an' keep the others back. Fal an' I'll take care o' dis."

Nickel nodded. "Right, Spot."

David looked at her incredulously. "You _obey_ him?" He demanded. "He's only your brother."

Nickel shrugged. "He's the King."

I took action. I may not be the King of Brooklyn, or a Queen of anything else, but if anything, I can kick some ass.

Considering the following events, I'd say I can kick some jackass.

Grabbing Jack's arm in my signature move, I twisted it up behind his back as Spot beaned Blink with a marble, then tackled him.

"Cool it, Cowboy," I scolded him as he cursed. "You can fight to the death later, but right now we gotta plan a way to get your girl back."

Conlon had Blink pinned to the floor in record time.

"Now, boys," I said in a very motherly tone. "Say you're sorry."

Havoc and the other kids cackled evilly.

Cowboy glared at us. "Not cool, Falcon," He said.

"I don't give a damn," I said. "You want your girlfriends back or not, boys?" I demanded.

That stopped them.

I glared at the crowd. "Something for you all?" I demanded. "Or were ya just enjoyin' da show?" The boys made themselves scarce. The kids were still cackling. The girls, smart as they were, were occupying themselves. One took Havoc on her lap, and the younger ids around her, and began to occupy them with some story or other. A few others began to clean up the broken glass that littered the room. Jade fetched some of the boys new drinks—they all looked like they needed them.

Diamond was the smartest. The girl's light brown eyes and pearly teeth glinted against her toffee brown skin. For a twelve year old, even one who didn't seem twelve at all, she could carry an awful lot of bottles, bandages, and medical supplies.

I dragged Jack over to a bunk, and sat him down. Diamond gave me her medicines, and ran back to a cupboard to fetch some more for Blink.

"Now hold still, you jackass," I said as I looked Jack over. He looked beat up. Bloody and bruised hands, a cut on his head, a black eye, and his clothes ripped and streaked with blood, and several cuts and bruises all over him. "You look messed up."

"_You're_ messed up." Jack said crossly.

I grabbed a bandage and said, "Hold still," and I began to wrap it around his head wound.

Jade tended to Blink, who growled at her. In the meantime, Spot ranted and raved, which seemed to make him feel better.

But when he finally settled down, right around when we were halfway through tending the boys, he sat down, and took Havoc in his lap.

Nickel sat down, and Racetrack, and David, and everyone began to formulate a game plan.

Basically, there were five options.

One, let things play out. This was strongly opposed against, naturally, since Sarah and Clover could get killed or end up like me, which would please no one.

Two, storm the fort. Like I said earlier, this would likely get everyone killed. Sarah and Clover included.

Three, hand me over. When Snitch suggested this, I fumed. But before I could do it, Nickel slapped him across the face.

Four, we could go to the authorities. It was unlikely they would care, but some said it was worth a shot, since we had evidence.

Five, we could plant a spy.

"Why don't we vote?" I proposed.

""Cause dis ain't a democracy, Falcon," Spot told me. "The goils that've been taken are 'Hattan, so it's a Jackocracy." Blink, of course, protested, but nobody cared, and Jade tightened a bandage, making him yelp and shut up his yelling.

Jack considered it.

"I say we vote." He said, and I grinned. "Because Blank might take more girls if we let him get away with it."

Nods went round.

But, just as someone was about to take charge and organize a vote, someone came running.

"Cowboy!" A young boy yelled. "Cowboy!"

Jack stood, abruptly hitting his head on the top bunk.

He cursed, and stood.

I pushed him back down, and said, "Whoever it is can see you sitting down." I looked to Snipeshooter, who was closest to the door. "Let him in."

He nodded, and opened the door just in time for a boy to come running.

He looked about nine or ten, and his cap had a patch on it.

"Patch?" Racetrack was amazed. "What're you doin' heah?"

The kid ran to Cowboy. "Cowboy, Cowboy!" He panted, and braced his hands on his knees.

"Take it easy, kid," I said, and handed him a bottle of water. He took a long gulp, and stammered out,

"The others'll be here soon." He gasped. "They sent one from each borough, to report."

"Who?" I demanded. "What others?"

"The other boroughs." The kid, Patch, explained to ignorant little me. "Midtown, da Bronx, da Bowery, all o' dem. Dey're sending messengers to 'Hattan. Even Staten Island."

"_Who_ is sending you?" Spot demanded.

Patch took another gulp of water. The kid looked like he needed it. "The Bowery sent me. Hammer said I'm to report to Cowboy, and give 'im somefin."

"What?" Jack demanded. I tied the bandage around his arm tighter, before it began to bleed again.

Patch took a deep breath before saying, "Blank. He took Hammer's girl, Bonnet. And another girl, his second in command, Spyglass." He pulled something out of his pocket. "And Hammer said to give you this." He shoved a note under Cowboy's nose.

The leader of Manhattan took it, skimmed it quickly, then passed it to Spot, who read it aloud.

"Hammer, pass this on to Cowboy in 'Hattan.

Tell him to give me Falcon and Havoc

He'll know.

Same time as I told him.

Friday, at midnight,

Or Bonnet and Spyglass get it.

_Blank_

Watch the skies."

"What the hell does that mean?" Spot demanded angrily.

"Lemme see," Nickel demanded.

I finished with Cowboy, and I turned to Patch.

"Kid, I'm gonna need something more. What did they look like? When did anyone last see them?"

Patch nodded. "Spyglass is real tall, and skinny like. And she's got coppery hair, real short. And freckles, but sorta faded, and 'er skin's sorta tan fer a readhead. And she's got a spyglass wit' 'er, always."

I nodded. "And the other one?"

"Bonnet's wearing a bonnet, duh, but dat won't help much. She's got dis long coily hair, and dark eyes. She's no newsie, she's a factory goil, middle class, and she's real pretty. Hammer says she was wearin' a blue dress when she was taken."

"Did they say anything else?" Jack demanded.

Patch nodded eagerly. "They said tomorrow, to meet in Central Park."

"That's 'Hattan terr'tory," Blink protested.

Patch kept nodding. "Hammer said the council's comin'. 'E said you'd know what that means."

The newsies looked at each other.

"What?" I demanded. "What's the council?" God, the newsie and street kid government was too much like the grown up one. I wouldn't have to learn much about government when all this was done. I would already know it.

"The council of all da newsie leadahs," Patch filled me in. "Dey meet on'y foah da real impo'tant stuff."

At the moment, two more messengers arrived, bearing newsies.

"Cowboy, Cowboy!" The yelled.

More arrived.

As messengers began to pour into the lodging house, it got harder and harder to keep control of everyone.

But we managed to get out of the messengers the following, that every borough had lost at least one girl.

Nickel went back to Brooklyn to deal with things there, and I sent Tumbler to tell the girls at the factory that I had something to deal with, and that I wouldn't be there for a while.

None of us slept that night.

Not a single one.

The spare bunk, the one that Clover always slept in, the 'Hattan newsies let me use for the night. With everyone disappearing, I didn't want to sleep at home. Neither was I eager to sleep in the bunk of a girl who might be dead already, or soon, but it was that or the floor, and that was occupied by dozens of messengers. Jack didn't want them roaming the streets at night, because some of them were girls.

But I couldn't sleep.

If it was so easy for Blank to kidnap girls, and if he just wanted me, why not kidnap me outright? And Havoc, she'd be even easier to kidnap, being just a kid and blind and all.

I wondered, all night, why he didn't attack me personally, and come morning, I was as tired and grouchy as can be.


	6. Alleypup

**Alleypup's POV:**

Brooklyn was cool.

For one thing, the other girls were teaching me to use a slingshot, and Spot had been conveniently MIA, so no one to boss us around. Dock was a cool temporary leader. He seemed to know that people couldn't do _everything_, and he respected that.

Nickel was back, but she seemed very preoccupied with the kidnapping cases, and aside from selling papes, she stayed in the girls' room a lot. But other than that, Brooklyn was cool.

That is, until I got snatched.

I just walked round the corner, and ran into something, a cloth, I think. Covered in a perfume or a drug or something that made it smell funny.

All I remember is, I blacked out.

I woke up in something of a box.

Actually, it was a room, a small room, really a cell. It was clean, but the walls were an ugly brown color, pure stone, and the only light came from a barely working light bulb hanging from the ceiling.

I realized something.

I wasn't naked, no. But I was dressed in something _not_ my clothes. A white nightgown, the kind rich girls wore.

And that meant that to change my clothes, someone had had to _un_dress me.

Oh, they were gonna pay!"

But, I noticed something strange.

My hair was brushed out neatly, and there was someone else in the room.

Actually, lots of someones. But not really _in_ the room.

The room was small, true, but three walls were pure glass. One wall, I could tell, made the door; it was the smallest wall and I could see the door. The other walls, though, were see-through, and through them I could see girls dressed as I was. To my left and to my right, at least ten girls in each direction, maybe more, but I wasn't really concentrating on that.

What _was_ this place?

I stood, and found immediately that the person to my right was Sarah Jacobs, the one and only.

She was leaning against the wall, asleep, hunched in a ball.

She wore the same type of nightgown as I did, but she looked ragged. Her nightgown was rumpled, and her arm was bandaged and bloody. Her hair was mussed.

Wait, her arm was bloody?

What was this place?

The door opened, and I turned, reaching for the slingshot that wasn't there. There was a short boy about my age, with a sneer on his face, standing in the doorway. He smiled, and said,

"Da boss wants you."

My eyes narrowed.

"Blank." I said. It wasn't a question.

The boy smiled. "He ain't da boss. Da boss says I'm to bring you to 'im. He don't care what it takes, so long as I don't kill you."

I shook my head. "I ain't goin' nowheah." I told him coldly.

The boy shrugged. "Easy. Then I'll stay." And he entered, and began to shut the door.

I leaped for it. "On second thought—"

He grinned.

He took me into the hall. Then, he led me up and down a few hallways and staircases, so many that I lost count, but I memorized every turn, so I could navigate it if I had to.

If Blank wasn't the boss, who was?

It could be anyone.

Too many people hated the newsies. Maybe this was just a manifestation of all of those people, and they were just using Blank as a pawn to take the bullet.

The boy finally stopped and knocked in front of a door that looked expensive.

"Come in." a voice came from within.

The boy opened the door, but didn't even enter. Instead, he just pushed me into the room. I stumbled, and fell, and the boy closed the door behind me.

"Get up." The voice said coldly, and I did so. I hated him for it, but it wasn't like I had any other option.

I looked up at the 'boss' of this whole operation.

He was someone I didn't know. A boy, around seventeen or eighteen, or maybe nineteen years old, with sandy blonde hair.

He held a knife.

**Third Person POV:**

Tempest ran into the Manhattan Lodging House just as Jack was getting ready to go to the council meeting in Central Park.

Everyone looked up at Spot's girl.

"_Temp_?" Spot demanded, frowning. "What're you doin' heah?"

For an answer, a breathless Tempest held out a note.

"Alleypup." She said simply.

Jade snatched the note from her, and read it aloud with a horrified expression.

"Brooklyn, 'Hattan,

Alleypup ain't important to you or anything, right?

Good, because unless you bring me Falcon and Havoc, she dies. No exceptions

Friday night, guys and girls

That's your last chance.

Make it count.

_Blank_"

"I'm gonna kill him." Jade swore. She had a soft spot for Alleypup, who she had practically adopted as a sister.

"Blank took Alleypup?" Diamond demanded. She snatched the note from Jade, who let her.

Blink clenched his teeth. "What're we doin' heah, standin' round like ninnies? We oughtta be marchin' in there, getting' Clover an ev'rybody else out!"

"Or else we gotta trade for somefin." Someone muttered.

"Who said that?" Jack demanded, but nobody fessed up.

Falcon held Havoc, and crooned in the little blind girl's ear. She felt eyes staring at her, but she tried to ignore them, and soothe her worried, nervous little daughter.

"Alright." Spot said, standing up. "Ain't we got a council meetin' ta go to?"

Jack nodded. He looked to Falcon. "Fal, come wit' us. It involves you anyhow. And bring Havoc, it ain't safe for her alone." He looked out at the room, and said to everyone. "Travel in pairs. IF someone gets taken, don't panic. Don't go after 'em. Come tell us straight 'way."

Everywhere heads bobbed in agreement with Cowboy's words.

"I'm comin' to the meetin'." Tempest announced. When Spot opened his mouth, Tempest said, "An' I don't give a damn 'bout protocol, neither, Conlon, so don't even try it."

"Why do I put up with you?" He muttered. His fingers twitched, like his instincts made him want to yank out his slingshot.

Temp grinned wildly. "'Cause you _love_ me, dontcha, Conlon?" She said, wrapping her arm round his shoulders.

"Davey's comin', too." Jack said, and nobody argued.

"Jack, I'm not sure if I should—" Davey began.

"Your loss, Jacobs." Falcon said, standing. She held Havoc tightly to her, as if she were afraid that if she let go, her daughter would slip away. "_Your_ sister gettin' raped, after all."

Davey silently decided he'd come, and everyone knew it.

Central Park was gorgeous. It was too beautiful of a day for this kind of meeting, to discuss what to do about the raping of lower and middle class girls no one cared about.

They met where they always did, a hidden place.

They all sat in the soft green grass, on the ground, so no one was higher than the others. Of course, some were taller than others, but Spot's eyes out-glared all of theirs, so personal appearances held no grounds.

Every leader was there. Except for Queens, but Queens was always late. The boys, back when there were fewer girl newsies, used to joke that the girls came late because they were fixing themselves up. A few broken limbs later and they reconsidered and never mentioned it again.

"Hello, guys and gals." A voice came from the shadows. No one jumped. It was too hard to surprise a newsie.

Well, that is, no one jumped except for Davey, because Davey was hardly even a newsie, he was so middle-class.

"Shadow?" The leader of the Bronx peered at the second in command of Queens. "What're ya doin' heah?"

"I'm heah foah da council meetin'." She said, and took a seat where Queens always sat.

"The meeting's fer leadahs on'y." Midtown hissed.

"I know." Shadow said. And she pulled something out, a note.

"Dear Newsies,

It is time you learned, Blank is not the brains of this operation. He is merely a benefactor.

I have many benefactors.

Bring me Falcon and Havoc, or Duchess dies.

Then everyone else

Starting with Sarah Jacobs.

Get the picture?

Friday, midnight at the square in Manhattan.

I will be waiting with the girls.

Don't mess this up, or the girls won't even live to make you regret it.

_You know who I am_"

"Let's not mince woids." Shadow said flatly. "Ev'ry one o' us've got a goil or two, or even t'ree missin' from deir borough. Now, who's in favoh of givin' Falcon an' Havoc to Blank?"

The leaders looked at each other. Falccon clutched Havoc, Jack bit his lip.

And hands were raised.

**CLIFFHANGER!**

**Hahahahaha!**

**Cool, now I've got you all waiting!**

**HA!**

**Anyway, disclaimer: Don't own Newsies, sadly, or I'd be incredibly rich from the fabulous Fansies. Don't own any **_**of**_** the newsies, either, except the ones you don't recognize. In which case, they are mine. Except Diamond and Tempest. Diamond is based off DiAmOnDsrBlUe, who asked me to put her in this story, and Tempest/Temp is based off LvSingWrite, who asked me to put her in this story.**

**I think that's it for the disclaimer.**

**If you want me to put you in the story. . . .**

**Tough luck, wait a few chapters.**

**Sawry!**

**Maybe if you're all very good, I'll put my loyal Fansies in later on, during the climax and whatnot. 'Kay?**

***Muuuuuuuuaaaa!* Luv u! Virtual cookies for all!**

**I HAVE FANS!**

**I'm so HAPPY!**

**luv u!**


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